Run
by YourTimeIsNow
Summary: "Run, she thought. And she prepared to do just that. She needed to get away. Away from the pain, away from him. He could see it, could see that she was getting ready to take off, to fly. He took and step forward and reached out. Instinctively, she backed away. She couldn't bear his touch." Lengthy one-shot. Non-canon. What would happen in my perfect world.


_Slightly non-canon, as far as timing goes. This is what would happen in my perfect world. :) Thank you to the reader who let me know about the weird formatting issue! I appreciate it!_

* * *

She'd always found running to be therapeutic. It didn't matter what time of day, morning, afternoon or night, she could find solace and quiet her mind during a good, long run. The rhythmic pounding of her feet against pavement, the steady inhalation and exhalation of her breath, the air filling her lungs, the beads of sweat that ran down her spine as she pushed her body forward, always forward. Everything else fell away when she was running. Nothing else mattered.

When her alarm went off at 5:30am on her day off, she was more than willing to hop out of bed and into her running shoes. In her bathroom, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and pulled on a cotton headband. She planned to work up a sweat. As she turned to head out the door, she caught her reflection in the mirror and it gave her pause.

Fuck, she looked tired.

The dark circles under her eyes had become more pronounced. The crow's feet around her eyes more defined. It had been one hell of a year. First Lewis, then the collapse of her relationship with Brian. It was amazing she was even still standing up. Maybe, she thought, it was time to take that vacation she'd been planning. For seven years. A trip alone. She was always alone.

Sighing, she finally exited the bathroom and, clipping her iPhone into her arm band, she turned her running mix on loud and left her apartment. Her new apartment.

He'd violated her space in every way and she'd never been able to set foot in her old apartment again. She'd been staying with Brian but after that crashed and burned, she had to find a new place to call home. She was determined that he wouldn't affect her, that he wouldn't remove her from everything she knew and loved. And so when she began apartment hunting, she was resolute that her new place be in her own neighborhood. She refused to give up her grocery store, her favorite Chinese food place, her coffee shop. These were places she knew, relationships she had created, people who made her feel safe.

He would not displace her.

After a quick stretch on her doorstep, she began the short jog over to her favorite running trail in Riverside Park. Once she hit the trail, she cut loose, picking up speed and enjoying the cool early fall breeze on her face. The leaves were just starting to change and Olivia inhaled deeply as she felt her heart rate pick up.

She loved to run.

She turned off her brain and focused on her quickening breath, the dull burn she was beginning to feel in her thighs, the tightness in her abs, the short swing of her arms.

There were few people on the trail that early in the morning and she enjoyed the freedom of running at her own pace without worrying about bumping people or waiting to move past them to keep her rhythm.

She was in the zone, hitting her stride, and didn't even notice the hulking frame jogging toward her. That is, until he stopped dead in his tracks. That she noticed. She also noticed his eyes go wide as they took in her form. She noticed all of that before she noticed who he was. She didn't notice that at all. Not until he said her name.

"Liv?"

Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. Her brain flipped its switch and came to life on full blast, inundating her with thoughts and memories and… pain. Pain so acute, so strong that it filled her with each breath she struggled to take.

She paused her stride and fought to regulate her inhalations, her exhalations. She could feel her blood rush, thumping in her ears, pounding in her heart. She felt her limbs go numb as the pain bloomed in her chest.

Run, she thought. And she prepared to do just that. She needed to get away. Away from the pain, away from him. He could see it, could see that she was getting ready to take off, to fly. He took and step forward and reached out. Instinctively, she backed away. She couldn't bear his touch.

"Please," he said. "Please don't run."

Damn. She could never deny him anything. And he knew it. She fixed her feet to the ground and slowly, without taking her eyes from his, reached up to remove her earbuds. As her music faded away, it was replaced only with the sound of their breathing.

They didn't speak for some time. Only looked at each other, stared with heaving chests, learning each other again. He, too, was older. He'd grown a goatee which was speckled with gray. His short, ever-receding hair had also turned salt-and-pepper. His eyes, like hers, had more lines around them. But they were still the sharpest blue. And he was still him. Undeniably Elliot.

Elliot.

He finally spoke. "How are you?" he said. His voice was so quiet.

"What are you doing here, Elliot?" was her reply. She couldn't answer his question just yet.

"I live on the other side of the park."

"You live… you live here?" Her confusion was genuine. How could he live here? Just a few short blocks from her? "You live here?"

"Yeah," he looked to the ground sheepishly and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. She was oddly comforted by the familiarity. Some things never change. "Kathy and I split two years ago. I moved into Manhattan-"

"Six blocks from me?" She felt anger bubbling to the surface, but for the life of her couldn't figure out why.

"I know," he said, the shame he felt evident in his voice. "I should have called."

That's why.

"Yeah, you should have called," she said, her voice trembling with fury. "You should have called three years ago. You should have returned my calls three years ago."

"I know," he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she said. "You're sorry?" She stared at him incredulously, as if that was the most preposterous thing she'd ever heard in her life. "You know what, Elliot? I don't need this. Go fuck yourself."

And with that, she started to jog away, satisfied that she'd gotten the last word and fighting to ignore the pull in her chest that threatened to yank her back to that spot. To where he was.

"Go ahead, Olivia," he called after her. "Run. You're really good at it."

That brought her to a halt. How dare he? He had no idea. She turned around, jogged to him and before he could say another word, she reeled back and slapped him across the face.

"You bastard," she hissed. His wide, angry eyes never left hers and she matched him, emulated his defensive stance. Keep your walls up, Olivia, she told herself. Don't let him in.

He didn't speak, so she continued.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me?" she spat. "Any idea what I've been through?" She saw him deflate as hot tears pricked the corner of her eyes. They streamed down her cheeks without her consent, feeling like hot acid against her flushed skin. He didn't answer her, couldn't answer her. "Yeah, I thought not. Forgive me if I don't want to take a trip down memory lane with you, Elliot. Like I said, go fuck yourself."

She turned on her heel and continued jogging down the path, ignoring the pull in chest, refusing to turn around just to see him one last time.

She got about two minutes away from him when she heard heavy feet and labored breathing coming up quickly behind her. She felt his large, strong hand grab her arm. That hand. She'd always wondered what it would feel like against her skin, what it would feel like to bend to its will, what it would feel like wrapped in her own.

He spun her to face him, effectively halting her pace and causing her to stumble for her balance. He didn't remove his hand from its grasp on her bicep and she shuddered inwardly. "I do know what you've been through," his voice was soft, but angry. "I watched, kept track. Olivia, I should have been there, I know. And I'm sorry. Do you understand that?" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "I'm sorry, goddamn it!"

She pulled out of his grasp and pushed him away from her. "So, what? You decided to move into my neighborhood to what, Elliot? To try and atone for what you did? Were you waiting for a moment like this, where you could just blindside me? Did you think I'd magically just let you back into my life? Were you ever going to get in contact with me again?" Her voice rose in volume with each sentence until she was shouting. "Twelve years! Twelve fucking years, Elliot! How could you do that? How could you abandon the squad? Our victims? Our partnership?"

"How could I abandon you?" he said quietly.

She felt the wind leave her sails. "Yes," she breathed and fought the emotion in her voice. "Yes, me. I thought… I thought you were my friend. My best friend."

"I was," he took a step toward her. "I am."

"No," she shook her head, backing away from him again. "No, you're not. You don't even know me anymore."

"Let me get to know you again!" he pleaded.

It gave her pause. The cold sting of abandonment felt fresh in her heart and she wasn't sure she could handle it if he did that to her again. Could she trust him?

"Please, Olivia," Elliot said as he took a step toward her. "Please. I know I fucked up. But… I at least need to explain myself to you. You… you deserve at least that much. More. You need to know why."

She looked into his face and was overwhelmed with sadness. He was clearly struggling and had been for a long time. She hadn't forgotten what it was like to watch him flounder, to watch him slip away, unable to reach him as he grasped for purchase against the rockslide. For the first time in a long time, she saw him. The real Elliot. Her friend, the man in her life, the man she trusted.

He'd hurt her, yes. But she'd been hurt before and she was always able to get over it somehow. She was a big girl, she knew how to handle the pain.

But... the pain caused by Elliot… that was the worst. He'd always known just how to hurt her, just how to get under her skin and cause the most damage. They both knew how to do that, she certainly wasn't without fault on that count.

Her entire adult life had been wrapped up in him, and she still, to this day, couldn't imagine it without him. Even when he was gone, he was never really gone. She'd always carried him with her, clipped his badge to her gun, wore his medal around her neck. Small pieces of him that she took with her every single day.

She hated the back-and-forth her mind was doing. Trust him, don't trust him, trust him, don't trust him. After Lewis, it had taken her a long time to get control of her thoughts again, and the fact that she felt the spin, the loss of control again scared her. As she looked at him, this man she'd known her entire adult life, she knew… she knew she would forgive him. She also knew that she would try her very best to keep up her defenses. And she knew that he would break them down.

She could do this. She had to do this. Even after this separation, after all this time, she knew that she could still trust him. With her life. He was one of the few people she could say that about. Her life had been incomplete without his friendship. And she could use all the friends she could get right now. She would work to overcome her pain, to forgive him. She had to be stronger than her wounds.

"Okay." Her voice was soft as she responded. "Okay, Elliot."

The smile that appear on his face as she agreed to his request warmed her heart. In that moment, any hesitation she'd felt about allowing him back in went away. She turned up the corners of her mouth in exchange and whispered, "It's good to see you again."

She reached forward and lightly placed her hand on his forearm, which he quickly covered with his own hand. He nodded and smiled softly.

"You, too, Olivia."

* * *

She stared at herself in the mirror, analyzing her outfit and mentally chastising herself for getting so fucking worked up over this dinner with Elliot. It wasn't a date. She shouldn't care if she looked good or not.

But she did care. She cared a lot. More than she should.

So she was very selective in choosing her attire for the evening. She had no idea where they were going and decided to go for a semi-casual look. Dark wash jeans tucked into her flat brown leather boots. A loose-fitting hunter green silk blouse and her structured black blazer. She felt confident, strong, impenetrable even. It was important that she feel safe and secure in her own skin. It would make hearing what Elliot had to say to her that much easier to take.

Suddenly, her buzzer went off. She hurried to her living room, grabbing her bag off her couch and pressing the button on her intercom. "Coming!" she called and, snatching her keys off her side table, quickly exited her apartment and headed down the stairs.

As she entered her lobby, she saw him waiting for her outside. He was looking at the ground and hadn't noticed her yet. She took in his form, large as it ever was and dressed cleanly in dark jeans and a blue button down. He was wearing a tailored leather bomber jacket she'd never seen before. He looked good. Really good.

Taking a deep breath, she exited her apartment and descended the steps to meet him. He brought his eyes up to her form and smiled slightly. "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she returned his smile. Boldly, she took a step toward him and leaned up, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. She needed to let him know that she would do her best to be open to everything he needed to say. That she was, in fact, grateful that they'd quite literally run into each other early that morning. That she really did hope they could get their friendship back.

Despite her inner turmoil that afternoon, she struggled with the knowledge that she most likely had already forgiven him. She could never hate him, despite how hard she'd tried. She hated what he'd done, yes. But she knew that people made mistakes. She'd made quite a few in her day. She knew he was a good man and resolved to open herself up and let him in again.

As she pulled back, she saw his cheeks flush with color and she smiled. He breathed out nervously and chucked. "I'm not gonna lie," he said. "I thought you were going to deck me again."

She laughed. "I didn't deck you the first time. That was just a soft tap. When I deck you, you'll know it."

"Remind me never to piss you off," he said, the wide smile she knew and loved warmly stretching across his face.

"After twelve years of partnership, that's not already ingrained in you?" she joked him. "Man, you go away for three years and forget everything." She'd wanted to maintain the lighthearted banter between them, but trailed off as her words betrayed her heartbreak at having lost him for those years. She broke eye contact and looked at her shoes.

"Liv." She felt his strong hand cup her cheek and bring her eyes up to meet his again. It felt strange to have him touch her this way and she was sure her face showed it. He sighed and dropped his hand back to his side, gesturing with his head that they should walk. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat."

She fell easily into step beside him, always beside him, as they walked with silent purpose down the block. Olivia didn't know where they were headed and she didn't ask. She let him take the lead and soon found herself on the doorstep of a casual Italian restaurant. He held the door for her and she passed through it, softly smiling a thank you at his chivalry.

As the door swung closed behind her, she felt him take his place at her side again and they approached the hostess podium. "Reservation for two under Stabler," he said. She wasn't sure why, but this surprised her.

The hostess checked her list and looked up, smiling as she spoke. "Yes sir, right this way." She led them back to a small booth in the corner of the restaurant, handed them menus and left them to their dinner.

Moments later, their waiter approached, introducing himself and asking if they'd like to start with a round of drinks. Elliot looked up at her and said, "Martini?"

"No!" She said, too quickly, too loudly, too forcefully. She instantly checked herself and, ignoring Elliot's curious stare, quietly said, "No, thank you. I'll just have a glass of your house red."

"Yes, miss, it's a lovely cabernet sauvignon," the waiter replied as if Olivia's outburst hadn't happened at all.

"That will be fine, thank you," she smiled.

After Elliot ordered their seasonal draft beer and the waiter departed, he leaned forward with probing eyes, not speaking a word and waiting for her to come to him.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I don't… I can't… the taste of alcohol… I can't…" she sputtered, trying to find the words and becoming frustrated that her tongue wouldn't move as quickly as her brain.

"Oh," Elliot breathed. "Lewis."

The name made Olivia's blood run cold. She blinked against the prickling of tears in the corners of her eyes, willing them to go away. "How… how did you know?" she rasped against the emotion that had lodged itself in her throat.

"The newspaper," he responded, not tearing his eyes from hers. "Olivia… I can't… I don't know how to tell you…"

"It's okay, Elliot," she said. "You don't have to."

"But I do-"

At that moment, the waiter reappeared with their drinks and read them the specials for the evening. After Olivia ordered the pumpkin gnocchi and Elliot requested the chicken parmesan, the waiter, sensing he needed to make a hasty exit, quickly departed.

Olivia took a deep breath and a long sip of her wine, trying to calm her trembling hands, her fluttering heart. As she set her glass back down on the table, her eyes met Elliot's again and she knew he wanted to say something to her. She tried to beat him to it. "Really, Elliot, it's okay. I'm over it." She waved her hand as if she were brushing it away from her. If only it were that simple.

He didn't even wait a beat before saying, "I don't believe you, Liv." Olivia didn't say a word, so he continued. "The man tortured you for days-"

"I know," she cut him off with a firm voice. "I was there. Where were you?"

Elliot took a deep breath and pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. So Olivia took it upon herself to continue. She was determined to say everything she'd always imagined saying to him. She'd had this conversation so many times in her head. She only hoped she could manage to get through it without breaking.

"I needed you, Elliot," she said. "And you know how hard it is for me to admit I need anyone. But I needed you. Everything he did… all the pain… that was excruciating. But knowing that I had to go through it alone," she paused and took a deep breath. "That was even worse. Because I knew, if I didn't die by his hands, I was going to wish I had. After it was all over."

"Liv…" he breathed.

"Everything was already so fucked up. And then, Lewis… he just… he was always there. Even when he wasn't there… he was there. I couldn't get rid of him. No matter how many journals I wrote in or yoga classes I attended or scalding hot showers I took. He haunted me. But I was so alone. So, so alone."

"I should have been there," he whispered. "I should have been there for you, Liv."

"Yeah," she said, wiping the stray tears that had managed to slip down her cheeks. "You should have been." She took a sip of her wine and looked Elliot square in the eye, as if challenging him. It was time. "Why weren't you there, Elliot?"

He took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Because… because I couldn't stand myself. I killed a child, Olivia. A child that we promised to protect, to serve. I killed her, I have her blood on my hands. And I hated myself. Like you said, no matter how many scalding showers I took, I couldn't get rid of Jenna."

"It was a clean shoot, El," Olivia said, placing her hand flat in the center of the table to get his attention. "Jenna... she wasn't thinking clearly. She was blinded by rage. And she was just going to keep shooting."

"That's what I was afraid of. Sister Peg," he said, his voice catching with emotion. "Sister Peg was right next to you, Olivia. I was afraid… afraid you were next. And I couldn't… I couldn't bear that."

Olivia couldn't speak. He'd dropped a bomb on her. He'd killed Jenna… because he was protecting her…

Elliot buried his face in his hands. "I meant to hit her shoulder… I didn't mean to… I didn't want to…"

Olivia reached up and took one of his hands in her own, revealing his tear-streaked face. She was not accustomed to such emotions from him. His tears comforted her somehow, made her own emotional display less awkward for her. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I know you didn't, El. You'd never take the life of a child on purpose."

He squeezed her hand in return and then released it, bring his fingers to his face and wiping away the moisture from his cheeks. Olivia did the same.

"IAB was up my ass, they made my life hell, Liv," he said. "And I just couldn't do it anymore. Can you understand that?"

"Of course I can, Elliot," Olivia said. "We all hit our breaking point. I get that. What I don't get is why you just jumped ship, why you didn't tell me yourself, why you didn't say goodbye. I thought, after all those years, our partnership, our friendship meant at least that much to you."

"It did!" he said, leaning toward her as if to emphasize his point. "It meant that much and more. And that's why I couldn't say goodbye. Because if I said goodbye… then it was really over. The thought of not being your partner was unbearable. And I know, if I had come to you to tell you myself, I would have made a different choice. You… you were the only reason I would have stayed…"

He said the last part softly and to the table that Olivia wasn't quite sure she heard him right. But she had. He would have stayed… for her.

"Elliot…" Olivia breathed. "I never would have-"

"You wouldn't have had to, Liv," he cut her off. "The moment I saw you, I would have changed my mind." He stared at his hands, as if it made it easier to say the words he wanted to say.

"Elliot," she said. "Elliot, look at me." He did, his eyes clouded with emotion and confusion. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Olivia, I-"

"Okay, folks, here are you entrees."

God damn waiter! Olivia thought to herself as she sat back to let their server place her food in front of her. He did the same for Elliot, asked if there was anything more they needed and once again, made a speedy exit.

Olivia sighed and looked at her plate. It smelled delicious and she couldn't wait to enjoy it. She decided at that moment to take a break from the heavy conversation. They needed it. She took a deep breath and looked up at Elliot, who briefly smiled at her, waiting for her to dictate the direction the conversation took. She returned the smile and spoke again. "This looks incredible."

Elliot smiled again and nodded. "Dig in, Liv."

She grinned at him and picked up her fork, both of them tucking into their respective meals quietly for a few moments. After she'd had a few bites, she asked, "How are the kids doing?"

Elliot grinned. "Everyone is great. Maureen's a nurse. She's engaged to a doctor."

"Engaged?" Olivia chuckled. "You must love that."

"It's not my favorite thing that's ever happened, but he's a good guy and he treats her well. She's happy. That's all that matters to me," Elliot said and Olivia smiled in return, nodding and encouraging him to go on. "Kathleen is doing so well. She's a guidance counselor at Hudson. Currently not dating anyone, thank god."

Olivia laughed and saw Elliot's face light up at the sound. She smiled and said, "I'm so glad for her, Elliot. She worked hard, she deserves every success."

Elliot nodded in agreement. "I'm really proud of her. The twins are good. Dickie is in the Army, he made good on that promise," Elliot rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Like father, like son, I guess. And Lizzie's in college to become a teacher. My little bookworm."

Olivia grinned. The youngest Stabler daughter always held a special place in her heart, as she saw a lot of herself in little Lizzie. Bookish, quiet, a little shy. Content to disappear into other worlds that somehow seemed more satisfying than her own.

"Eli is great. A handful."

The mention of baby Stabler filled Olivia with warmth. She'd never experienced a connection like she had with Eli, it was instantaneous and unbreakable. She knew that she'd never be a mother and so she held on to that feeling, knowing it was the closest she'd ever come to that particular dream.

"How old is he now?" she asked.

"Eight. Can you believe it?"

Olivia didn't speak. She only stared down at her dwindling plate, fighting against the tears that were forming. She'd missed so much of Eli's life. She was the first person to hold him, she'd kept him warm with her own body heat, she'd cradled him against her. And she hadn't seen him in years.

"Olivia?" Elliot's questioning voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up without thinking. At the sight of her glassy eyes, he immediately grew concerned. "Hey, what is it?"

"It's nothing, El," Olivia waved her hand again, as if that motion somehow pushed her feelings away from her.

"Tell me," he said softly, leaning forward.

"It's nothing," she repeated. "I just miss seeing him, that's all." And she didn't just mean Eli.

Elliot sighed. "I'm so sorry, Liv," he spoke softly. "I... when I left... it was selfish. I took more from you than I realized."

"You did what you had to do, Elliot. I understand. Really, I do."

"He asks about you, you know," Elliot informed her. Olivia's face lit up at the thought and he grinned. "He'd love to see you."

"I would love to see him, too," Olivia whispered, emotion threatening to choke her. She fought against it. She was so tired of crying, she needed happier thoughts.

"I... I would have to be with him," Elliot said, matching her emotion tit-for-tat. "Would that be okay?"

Olivia smiled softly and leaned toward him, as if to emphasize the words she was about to speak. "I'm counting on it, Elliot."

* * *

As they finished up their dinner and drinks, Olivia found herself wishing that the evening wasn't drawing to a close. She found it a little ironic, how quickly the tides had turned. She'd been carrying this anger, this feeling of betrayal around with her for so long, she'd forgotten what it was like without that baggage. All it took was Elliot literally running into her life again. And she felt everything clicking back into place. Her heart was mending itself, stitching itself back together again the more time she spent with him.

And she was terrified it would all go away the moment she walked away from him.

As they walked in silence together back to her apartment, the crisp September air, lifted by a breeze, cooled the apples of her cheeks and ruffled her hair. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs and trying her best to quell the fear that kept creeping into her soul.

"Can I ask what you're thinking?" Elliot's soft voice brought her out of her own racing mind. She looked over at him and found he was returning her gaze curiously.

She looked forward again, squinting her eyes in thought, and took another deep breath before speaking. "I'm thinking... that it was really nice seeing you again." She glanced at him and gave him a small smile, which he returned.

"It was nice seeing you, too, Liv," he said softly. "That's not all, though..."

She pursed her lips and fought a chuckle at how well he knew her. "Yeah." She paused and looked at him again. "I'm just... I guess I'm just afraid."

"Of what?" he asked softly.

"Of you," she said, her eyes trained on his form until he looked at her once more. "Of you leaving again."

They arrived at the door to her building and Olivia stopped, turning to face him as he came to stand in front of her. He was so close to her, she could practically feel his breath warming her face. She could smell the cologne he'd put on earlier that evening. He sighed and looked above her head, forming the words that would forever change her.

"Liv," he began. "I know nothing I do will ever erase the mistake I made in leaving the way I did. And nothing I do will ever get back those three years. But if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying, trying so fucking hard, to make it up to you. Olivia... I want to tell you... I... I need..."

Olivia saw he was floundering and stepped forward, effectively closing the distance between them. "What, Elliot?" she whispered. He looked down at her silently. "Tell me, Elliot."

His hand reached up, slowly, to brush a piece of hair from her face. He let his thumb linger across her cheek for a moment before dropping it down to cup the curve of her neck. "Olivia... I'm in love with you."

She felt the breath leave her body, felt her heartbeat in her ears, felt her soul rock, her core shake. She couldn't speak, she didn't have the words, or if she did, she didn't know how to form them. This changed everything. Affirmed everything.

"I have been... for a long time... but I couldn't..." Elliot floundered, words failing him and she could practically feel his heart pounding alongside her own.

"It's okay, El," she whispered, unable to raise her voice to normal levels.

"It's not okay!" he exclaimed, stepping away from her as latent anger came to the surface. "It's not okay, Liv. You've always been there, always. And I've been every kind of asshole there is. You've saved my life, my job, my family. Jesus Christ, you delivered my son! And I left you. I fucking ran. I left you. What you went through... with Lewis..."

He saw the shudder ripple through her body and stepped closer to her once more. "I will never forgive myself for not being there, Olivia. Never. If I'd still been your partner, he never would have gotten close to you. He never would have had a chance to hurt you. I would have killed him. I wanted to kill him."

"Elliot..."

"Olivia... I'm so sorry," he touched her cheek as tears rolled down his face. "I'm so sorry."

"Elliot," she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into her embrace. She rested her head on his chest and felt his heartbeat against her ear. She felt his arms wrap tightly around her, as if he was afraid she'd slip away. She wasn't going anywhere. There was no running from this. He was her true north, her home, her partner. Her partner, always.

They fused together, so that Olivia could no longer tell where she ended and he began. They were that point where the sea met the sky. She felt him like she felt a gravitational pull, like the tide feels the moon. He woke her up inside, like a warm rain, like rebirth, like sunshine. For the first time maybe ever, she wasn't afraid to feel, she wasn't afraid to allow herself to feel.

"Liv..." he whispered.

She opened her heavy eyelids and looked up into his warm, familiar face. She reached up her fingers to brush the stray tears away from his cheeks. She didn't speak. She didn't even know where to begin. Instead, she allowed herself to be pulled into his orbit, stretching up to him and capturing his lower lip between her own.

It only took a moment for him to respond in kind. She felt his hands come up under her chin as his mouth moved over hers. Electricity coursed through her veins. Every place he touched felt like it was on fire, a hot burn as if he were branding her, marking her. It wasn't necessary. She'd always been his. Just like he'd always been hers.

She slanted her mouth over his, running her tongue along the seam of his lips, asking permission to be let inside. He willingly granted her access, parting his lips and greeting her tongue with his own. It was exploration, it was learning, it was joy, it was hope, it was everything.

Once she started to feel lightheaded, Olivia drew her lips from his and looked down at the ground, biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile. His fingers came under her chin and lifted her face to his own. His grin matched hers in every way.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Elliot breathed, still smiling.

Olivia laughed and nodded. "Me too."

His smile faded as he looked at her seriously. "Olivia... I need to hear you say that..."

"There's nothing to forgive, Elliot." He looked taken aback for a moment and then, she watched all of the lingering tension leave his body. "Elliot... you've carried this burden for too long. It's time to lay it down."

"Liv..." his voice trembled and she reached her hand to his cheek in comfort. "I don't know what to say."

Olivia smiled. "Well... you could tell me you love me again."

Elliot grinned and laughed. As his joyous voice faded into the cool New York night, he reached one hand to her hip and drew her close. The other hand, he brought to her face, outlining her curves, memorizing her. Then, he pressed his forehead to her own. He closed his eyes and she did the same. And then, his deep, even voice reached her ears.

"Olivia... I love you."

"Open your eyes, Elliot. I want you to watch me." His eyes opened and found hers.

"I love you, Elliot. I always have."

She kissed him again. And again. And again.


End file.
